


This is How it Starts

by SidheLives



Series: Harlequin Eyes [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, These Two Assholes Deserve Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/pseuds/SidheLives
Summary: “What is it you want, Inquisitor?”She chuckled low in her throat. “I’m Inquisitor again, then? I thought we’d gotten past titles, you and I.”“Would you prefer I refer to you as Lady Trevelyan?”“I would prefer you use my name.”“Is that not your name?”She frowned at him, lips pursing. “You’re being intentionally obstinate.”Solas’s attention caught on the way her expression forced her red painted lips out, accentuating their fullness. The distraction angered him, just by existing she vexed him. “And you are obstinately continuing a conversation I have no interest in. Either get round to the point of your intrusion or leave me be.”
Relationships: Solas/Trevelyan (Dragon Age)
Series: Harlequin Eyes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980208
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	This is How it Starts

“You know,” Des’s voice shattered the insulated silence of the stone chamber. “I always wondered where you scurried off to when you weren’t in the Rotunda.” Solas turned sharply and fixed her with a hard glare. She ignored the look, stepping farther into the room to examine the tall shelves filled with ancient dusty tomes. “No one seemed to know, and trust me I asked everyone.” She turned her uncomfortably bright eyes back to his scowl. “For a mage, you are very sneaky.”

“So you followed me?” Solas scoffed. “Am I allowed no secrets? No privacy from your scrutiny?”

“You’re keeping secrets from me, Solas?” She smirked. “I don’t know whether to be offended or intrigued.”

Her flippant tone only increased his irritation. “What is it you want, Inquisitor?”

She chuckled low in her throat. “I’m Inquisitor again, then? I thought we’d gotten past titles, you and I.”

“Would you prefer I refer to you as Lady Trevelyan?”

“I would prefer you use my name.”

“Is that not your name?”

She frowned at him, lips pursing. “You’re being intentionally obstinate.”

Solas’s attention caught on the way her expression forced her red painted lips out, accentuating their fullness. The distraction angered him, just by existing she vexed him. “And you are obstinately continuing a conversation I have no interest in. Either get round to the point of your intrusion or leave me be.”

“I just wanted to speak to you, Solas. We never talk anymore, the way we did in Haven.” Although her voice was firm, her eyes took on a sheen of hurt, though Solas could not be sure if it was genuine or pretended in an effort to earn his sympathy. He would stake money on the latter possibility.

“That was before you were hoisted atop a pillar of authority. Tell me, how does it feel?” His frustration and anger spilled over into his voice, the words snapping through the air like a whip.

Des seemed genuinely puzzled. “How does what feel?”

“Being you. Are you blissfully unaware? Or deep inside, is some part of you banging on the wall, screaming?”

Des crossed her arms, obnoxiously perfect lips pursing again. “Have I offended you in some way, Solas?”

“Oh, in some ways, yes.”

“If you have something to say, then say it. I am tired of you skulking around, avoiding my shadow. I’d rather have it out.” She was getting angry.  _ Good _ , he'd rather deal with her anger than her false humility.

“Perhaps I should watch my tone considering I’m speaking to a divine being.  _ The Chosen of Andraste _ .” He spat the title. “Do you enjoy the worship? Why am I asking, of course you do. Does it make you feel infallible? Or do you see them as fools, gullible for their belief?”

“I never claimed to be anyone’s savior.” She took a threatening step towards him. “They decided that, I did not.”

“But you did not deny it. You let them rest their hopes on a lie. Mere coincidence that it conveniently puts you in a position to be an object of adoration.”

“What would you have me do? Destroy the faith people have in me at the expense of the Inquisition? How many supporters would flee from our cause if they did not believe our mission ordained?”

“I would have you tell the truth!” He shouted.

Des balled her fists into her hair in frustration. “I don’t know the truth, Solas! I don’t know where the blasted mark came from! I don’t know how I survived!” She shook her head. “Maybe you’d care to illuminate me since you seem to know everything.”

Solas’s breath hitched in his chest momentarily as her words brushed close to his hidden truth. “Then tell them that.”

“Right, because the truth is always best even if it hurts hundreds, maybe thousands of people. Climb down from your high-horse. The Inquisition needs every scrap of aid it can get and I am not stupid enough to jeopardize that with the truth.”

“How  _ noble _ of you.” He turned his back on her, returning to the book he had been examining.

The door behind him slammed. “What is  _ that _ supposed to mean? You take issue with my pedigree?”

“When you use it to manipulate events to your benefit? Certainly.”

“You’re talking about the situation with the Templars.”

He glanced back over his shoulder at her. There was green fire in her eyes and her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Among other things, yes.”

“I disbanded the order, what does it matter how I got there?”

He turned on her. “Oh, so the ends justify the means?”

“Yes of course they do, don’t be naive.”

“And how far will you take that, I wonder. What will you excuse because the ends are worth it?”

“The Templars wouldn’t meet with me!” She screamed at him, pushed, it seemed, to her limit at last. "Yes, I used my family to leverage the Orlesian nobles in order to force the Lord Commander's hand. I took  _ nothing _ from them, I hurt  _ no one _ in doing so, and lives that otherwise would have been lost were saved  _ because I did _ .” She thrust a pointed finger at him, nearly striking his chest. “Unlike  _ you, _ I am not willing to sit on my hands and do  _ nothing _ when I have the power to save people from injustice!”

Rage rolled up in him. She had no idea what he had done, what he had sacrificed. “Am I not here? Helping despite everything?”

“Are you?” Her eyes burned into him. “You know so much Solas, you could do so much for the Inquisition, for the elves. But you hold that knowledge like a miser so you can appear smarter than everyone around you. You let people starve for your pride!”

“How dare-” He started, but she cut him off.

“I’m. Not. Finished. Let's be honest and talk about why you’re really angry at me.” She snapped. “You want me, and you hate me for it. The great Solas, desiring a mere mortal.”

He laughed at her. “If I wanted you, Desdemona, I could have you. It is not as if you keep your chastity locked behind impenetrable walls.”

Her brows pulled down. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“If the shoe fits, Inquisitor.”

Des shrieked, shoving him hard with both hands. He stumbled into the desk, knocking a precariously stacked tower of books to the ground."How dare you!" He attempted to right himself, but she was still there, shoving him again, angry tears wetting her eyes. "You pompous, arrogant, egg-headed bastard!"

Her petite hands struck him over and over, and he was forced to shove her back, hands closing around her wrists and pressing her against the bookshelf. There was a moment of stunned calm in which they stared at each other.

Her eyes were wet, her hair a tangled mess from balling her hands into it, and she fairly vibrated with rage.

She was gorgeous.

Solas didn't think as his mouth found her scowl, forcefully pressing his lips to hers. She gasped in shock and he thrust his tongue into her open mouth. He released her wrists, sliding his fingers into her aurelian hair to hold her head still as he explored her mouth. She returned his ferocity, tongue violently colliding with his as her hands found the bottom of his tunic and raked her sharp fingernails up his bare back. He shuddered, grinding his hips against her pelvis. He had not even noticed his growing arousal, so focused on their shared anger, his ire peaked by her ability to counter his every complaint. Solas tightened his hands in her hair as he pulled back to look at her. The rouge from her lips was smeared across her face and she gulped back air, neck arching back.

"Liar." She hissed breathlessly.

He growled and pulled her hair again and she gasped, eyes rolling back. Even now, even in this, she jabbed at him. Solas disentangled himself from her arms, using one hand knotted in her hair to force her to turn, shoving her chest hard against the shelves and holding her there with the press of his body. His teeth found the lobe of her ear and bit hard, making her cry out. "Yes, I lied. I want you." He seethed.

"And?" She breathed in response, arching her lower back into him.

He ground the hardness between his thighs into her ass and she moaned, fingertips scrambling at the shelves. "And I hate you for it."

She laughed, a low rumbling chuckle which he felt against his chest. The sound made him growl again. "Why is that funny?"

Her head pushed back against his hand and she rolled her virulent eyes to look at him. "I'm like you, Solas. I enjoy being right."

_ Those eyes _ . The moment he saw them he should have known they would be his undoing. He jerked her head back farther and forced another kiss on her smirking mouth, biting her bottom lip, and enjoying the pained mewl she made as he held her at the painful angle. 

She pushed against the bookshelf, causing a flurry of motes to dance in the dim light, shoving him back from her. Solas grunted, nearly losing his balance, then Des's tongue was in his mouth again and the forward momentum of her hips drove him back until his thighs hit the desk. Another stack of books tumbled to the ground. There was no thought, no careful calculation as he ripped her blouse open, just an animalistic need. Her breasts, contained by nothing but the flimsy cotton, spilled out and his thumbs and forefingers caught her nipples with a skill he had thought long since forgotten. 

It wasn't enough, nor was the pleasured moan she gave as he roughly twisted his hands. 

Ducking his head to her chest, Solas pulled one tight, red tweaked nipple into his mouth and she gasped, hands finding the back of his head and pulling him into her. He lavished her breasts in teeth and tongue, sucking hard enough to leave purple-toned marks on her pale flesh. She rubbed herself against his hardness and he felt the heat between her legs. His hand found her bare stomach and slid down its milky plain to the catches of her trousers which came undone as easily as he himself had. He bit down again, making Des gasp, a sound colored both with pleasure and pain, as he snaked his hand under the supple leather. Just as she had in the Emerald Graves, when she had orchestrated her pantomime by the river, she wore no underclothes, and Solas's fingers slipped easily between her lips to the wet heat at her core. He felt a jolt of lust, the kind borne from knowing on no uncertain terms that a woman aches for you, as his fingers swam in her want. A more rational part of his mind was disgusted by this primal desire, the way his body reacted automatically to the whimper she elicited as his fingertips brushed over her engorged clit, but that part was drowned out by the sound of Des moaning his name. He caught the back of her head with the hand not plunged between her thighs and caught her mouth with his, swallowing that delectable utterance.

It wasn’t enough, even as she trembled and squirmed under his touch.

He broke their lips, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily, and slowly extracted his hand from her breeches as he struggled to regain control of himself. Des caught his wrist in her tight grip and brought his glistening fingers to her mouth, carmine lips rolling over his digits, lapping her own taste from his skin, her defiant eyes never leaving his. Solas groaned, a shudder passing from his fingers, through his spine, and down the length of his cock. Any grip on or desire for control Solas had burned away under the veil fire of her gaze. In one movement he cascaded his hands across the desk at his back; Ink vials shattered as they hit the ground, splattering irremovable evidence of his weakness across falling ancient tomes and scattered papers. Then his hands were on her again, hands cupping her shapely ass to lift her and reverse their positions. Her arduous teeth found his lips as his grip found her waistband, shoving the leather down around her thighs. She gasped as he roughly took hold of her hair again, crying out as he bent her over the mahogany. She mewled under his hand and he breathed a curse as his erection fought against his efforts to release it.

Looking back at him over her shoulder, golden hair strewn across her face, Des chuckled, the sound setting every nerve in Solas's body alight. "Having trouble?"

He finally succeeded in extricating himself from his leggings, responding with his own dark chuckle as he saw her eyes widen slightly as she saw his length. "I'm about to." She started to laugh again, but Solas was well past trading witty blows. He took firm hold of her hips and thrust himself into her with enough force that she shrieked, rising onto the balls of her feet, knuckles white on the desk's edge. His eyes rolled back in his head and he cried out wordlessly. She was so wet, so hot, so tight, and as his cock hit the end of her she convulsed around him. It had not been so long since he had taken a woman that he had forgotten the sensation, but no woman before had ever felt like her. Immediately he pulled out, almost to the tip, then drove himself forward again. Again she rose to her toes and made high-pitched yipping sounds like a bitch in heat, and again he let out a strangled gasp of pleasure.

A last semblance of reason forced itself through Solas's mind as he again retracted himself from her. He shouldn't be doing this, it rang like an alarm through his skull. This was an unnecessary risk to everything he wished to accomplish. He froze, fingers boring deepening bruises into the skin of her hips, all motion stalled by the sudden comprehension of how quickly he had lost all control of the situation. Then Des, below him, chuckled again. 

"I win." 

She let the words roll from her venomous tongue and he could hear the smug smirk which he could not see stretching her lips. The insolence and haughtiness in those two words shattered all rational thought in Solas's mind. He plowed into her over and over again as she moaned, clawing at the desktop and pushing her hips back to meet his thrusts. Nothing existed outside of her cries, the feel of her body under his hands and enveloping his cock. She shuddered underneath him, muscles tightening around his length as she came, a cry that may have been his name cutting through the air, but he did not stop at her release. 

Her victory may have been him losing control and fucking her, but his victory would be her inability to sit down for the next week.

A choked, orgasmic moan ripped from Solas's lungs as he gave a final thrust, leaning over Des's back to sink himself deeper inside her. When he came, she writhed in pleasure, her euphoric cry joining with his and echoing throughout the small chamber before suddenly cutting out to be replaced by heaving gasps. Solas pushed back to his feet and pulled out of her, stepping back and falling into the high backed chair at the room's center, head falling back as he endeavored to ignore the contrition beginning to creep into the edges of his mind.

Des sighed contentedly and rolled onto her back before sitting up, with effort, and stretching her neck. Her breasts and hips were blossoming with deep purple bruises, makeup and hair mutual disasters, but the expression she wore was still measured and absolutely devastating. Solas watched in astonishment as she slid to her feet and pulled her trousers back up before smoothing down her golden hair and wiping her disheveled face across one sleeve. In only a moment she looked, apart from her exposed breasts, put together once again. Eyes half-lidded she sauntered to his side and placed a chaste, lingering kiss on his cheekbone.

"We'll have to do this again sometime."

He watched as she walked to the door, ass swaying in a near hypnotic rhythm. As she opened the door, Des turned back to look at him, a sultry smirk turning her lips. "Oh, and Solas? I've been riding Bull for months, you're going to have to try harder if you want to make me limp." She winked, then was gone door clicking closed behind her.

Solas growled again, burying his face in his hands.

He hated that woman.

He  _ needed _ to hate her.

The alternative was too dangerous to even consider.


End file.
